


tremble for my Beloved

by Takene_ne



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Adult Damian Wayne, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Damian Wayne is Batman, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, I really wanted to turn tim into grade A villain, M/M, Relationship Study, Tim Drake is Joker Jr., also there’s some major character injury happening because vigilantes :shrug:, and Fluff of sorts, batjokes 2.0, but he wouldn’t cooperate so he landed an outlaw instead, kind of, vignettes and subtext, you’re welcome tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takene_ne/pseuds/Takene_ne
Summary: There are things in this world far more precious than pride.OR: Tim is crazy but only somewhat, and Batman does everything in his might to keep him in the light. And theylive.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	tremble for my Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer applies. Title after _Collective Soul - Tremble For My Beloved_

“Drop the remote.”

Batman’s voice is steel, the command rolling smoothly off his tongue; his second nature. The man can’t see him — his back turned to the windows, messing with a complex bit of machinery; he hums happily, tinkering with buttons and sliders. Completely unbothered.

“I said drop. _The remote_.”

The man freezes. Turns on his heel. Eerie smile stretching his features is grotesque and obscene. Uncomfortable.

“Batsy Junior! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Purple suit shines weakly in the dim lights: the only splash of color in the endlessness of gray and dirt.

“You know perfectly well.”

_“Do I?”_

He does. Always does, always dancing closely with the demons that once consumed him. Batman doesn’t have the time to appease the dead tonight. _~~It is not his call.~~_ The man has none of it.

As per usual.

Cold laughter chimes through the warehouse like funeral bells _~~(for you or for him?)~~_ It cuts deeper than a knife.

“Please do not make me fight you, Timothy.” They weren’t supposed to be doing this, not now. Batman descends from the rafters, regardless. “You know _I will_.”

He knows, always does. Never stopped him before.

“Tut-tut! This is not our _bed_ —room! Code names, Batsy. Code! Names!”

“ _J.J._ ”

“See? Mucho better!”

“If you detonate that bomb, I promise you shall not escape Arkham.”

He _hates_ Arkham. Despises it, loathes. Would happily **_~~burn it to the ground and dance on the ashes—~~_**

“Phie! Like that dump can hold me.”

It can’t. Never could; not for long. It’ll be enough.

“That is not the point. You do not want to do this, Beloved.”

“Oh, but trust me, honey: I really, _really_ DO!”

He presses the button.

*

The cell in Arkham is small and near empty. Sad, just like its occupant. Incoherent murmurs and screams echo through the halls around; a warning. _~~An invitation.~~_

“I knew you’d come.”

“Grandfather.”

The air of the desert is dry and harsh, just as he remembers. Just as he was, once upon a time. It tastes like _home_ and like _betrayal_ , but to whom, he isn’t sure. Ra’s al Ghul hasn’t changed a lick since their paths last crossed; Damian cannot tell if it is a good or a bad thing, either.

“Batman. I presume you have come for the Detective?”

_~~(he’s not a DETECTIVE anymore he’s not he’S NOT HE’S—)~~ _ ~~~~

_~~(do not call him that. you have no right)~~ _ ~~~~

“Surely, Timothy has overstayed his welcome.” A nod. _Be polite._

“ _Surely_ , you know there is no such thing, child.”

Batman grinds his teeth because there isn’t much else he can do. Not here, not against this man, who holds all the power of the wilderness behind him. So he grinds his teeth and _stands down_. There are things in this world far more precious than pride.

“Where is he, Grandfather?”

“Medical bay.”

_~~(what did yOU DO TO MY—)~~ _

_~~(what did you DO…?)~~ _ ~~~~

“Ah, I’m afraid some precautions were taken to ensure Detective’s most… _unperturbed_ rest.”

“Thank you, Grandfather.” _You sly bastard._ “We shall take our leave now.”

*

“You cannot waltz up the League’s front door and demand Grandfather to just relinquish control over to you, Beloved.”

“’Course I can. Ra’s _loooves_ me!”

“That is precisely what worries me.” _~~Because I know one day he **will**.~~_

But today is not that day.

The mattress is pliant and swallowy; the kind that’s bad for the spine. His skin cold, but not damp or injured. His head _swimming_.

Restraints on his wrists and ankles are the first conscious thought that surfaces through the fog; tight and unyielding, sprawling him like a starfish on a too-soft bed. He is naked, save for the cowl. _~~He does not remember leaving for the night.~~_

“Hello, Beloved.”

Nobody else could’ve taken Batman from his own home.

_“Daaaaames~!!”_

A body launches at him, straddling his stomach and poking unforgiving finger into his cheek; tips of faded green hair brush against his lips, familiar yet ever-surprising. “You’ve been neglecting me!”

_Untrue._ He has seen Timothy a day before… his last recollection. This seems to be irrelevant, however. There are many things of which _neglecting_ he might be guilty. _~~Timothy knows best.~~_

“Is this my punishment, then?”

The cowl may still be adorning his head, but he is no Batman here. Only Damian.

“Depends.” Hesitation. Narrowed eyes. Half-bitten lip; a smirk. “Will you be a good Batsy for me?”

“Aren’t I always?”

As much as he is allowed, always. Always.

Timothy tumbles over with a laugh, and it’s not cold nor it is piercing; the sound Damian misses the most in times when the Clown wins. _~~There is never anything good about those.~~_

He snuggles closely to Damian’s side, pointy chin perched atop his chest; there is warmth in his eyes that are more green than blue _(but not Acid Green nor Lazarus Green and isn’t THAT a miracle)_ and Damian mellows under his touch.

“Whatever you need of me, I shall provide.”

He means it; he means all of it, always.

“Good.” A pause. “Black Mask is making a move on my turf. I need a good ol’ _Bat-ervention_.”

The kiss is almost sweet enough to make him forget that Timothy is no longer considered one among their own. _Almost._

The call comes from Hood. Because _of course_ it does.

It’s all huffed breathes, screaming and gunfire in the background: a mission gone wrong; the Outlaws outgunned, outnumbered and completely overpowered. It’s _Junior got injured, hurry up, Demon Brat, it’s BAD!_

And _Goddammit Todd, you had one job._

It’s racing against time through the city limits and into the hideout that officially doesn’t exist. It’s tallying up all the worst-case scenarios. There are plenty.

*

It feels like hours before Damian walks into a room flooded in white _(slow too SLOW please do not be D E A D—)_ the only stark contrast: hastily wiped crimson smudges on the floor _( ~~PLEASE I need the chance to say **g o o d b y e**~~ )_ and the black of Hood’s newest kevlar. He stops dead at the entrance, Batman’s hard won poise be damned to all Hell.

Steady bleeping of life-support machines has never felt so much like music before.

*

Later he will learn that Timothy took machine-gun series to the chest. That his suit is more actual suit than armor these days and that his lung collapsed from being shot through. That he almost bled out from multiple puncture wounds and nicked carotid artery. Later, he will shout at Todd for not being careful enough and being too reckless, his voice broken and raw from the tears he will refuse to shed.

For now, Damian slips off his cowl _(his legacy. his birthright. ~~his imposition)~~_ and takes the only other chair left in the room; he soaks up the faint warmth radiating off Timothy’s paled skin through the kiss he dares to place upon his knuckles.

It is a long night.

A joyful one nonetheless.

Regardless of the city, the host or the ultimate cause, high society galas are always gruesomely _same_. Network, play stupid; play _them_ like a witless fiddle. Timothy used to be brilliant at this sort of game, before. He used to be brilliant at great many things before the Joker came and ripped it all away.

_~~(He won’t be taking **anything** from **anyone** , **ever again**. Damian made sure of it.)~~ _ ~~~~

Of course, there is no force in this universe that could render Timothy as anything… _less_. However. Watching him glide through a party filled with barely-concealed supervillains and _stumble_ is. Unacceptable.

Timothy might have held onto his genius mind even through torture and psychotic indoctrination, but he did lose quite a bit of _patience_ in the process, and it shows. Shows plain as the light of day.

And Damian can _not_ accompany him in any meaningful way other than through a hidden lens.

If the Clone wasn't one of the people Timothy cherishes the most. Still. After everything. The next time Lex Luthor had the misfortune of meeting with Batman face to cowl, there would be hell to pay. _~~There **will** be.~~_ Grandfather, Damian can understand. He and Timothy had a long standing mutual… _appreciation_ going on, ages before Damian himself entered the picture as anything but a foe.

_~~What a fool he had been.~~ _ ~~~~

But _Luthor?_ He should know.

BETTER.

Provoking Timothy as he is now _~~(willing but unstable. HIGHLY dangerous)~~_ will only result in bloodshed and destruction; in mad laughter carrying over the wreckage like an ominous song, and the lives in his wake burnt and broken beyond reparation. And Damian will not be able to do anything to stop him _~~(help him. help him stop PLEASE help him stop before he can stop **himself** —)~~_

You do NOT put your hands on Timothy Drake, the accursed second Joker of Gotham and expect no retaliation to follow.

The only question is: who is it that will come for your thoughtless head? The Jester himself? Or _the **Bat**?_

This time?

This time it is _definitely_ going to be the Bat.

It does not happen often, just the two of them and nothing else on the line.

The smell of coffee filling the air; gentle embrace of the sheets. No, it does not happen often at all. Just them, enjoying tranquility of the morning together. As if they are people with no bigger troubles than the wear of everyday life. As if there is no unspeakable danger looming over their heads every second of every minute of _every day,_ ready to take and take without mercy until there is nothing left.

_~~As if there is no past.~~ _

~~Ugly and screaming; _a l w a y s_ screaming, relentless, from the background.~~

But there ARE moments like these.

Before Timothy paints his face in the shades of despair: gaudy red and stark white; before Damian dons his _Cape_ and his _Cowl_. Moments like this, when there is just careful touch and easy affection to give, when none of them thinks about the weeks Timothy spend under Joker’s cruel hands and the weeks _~~months~~_ after, when Damian _(Damian! ~~Damian the Demon Spawn, Damian the Blood Son, Damian the Rightful Heir. Damian “Why don’t you go **DIE** already, Drake?!”~~ ) _was the only one willing to tear the world apart for justice and vengeance. Long overdue and paid in blood.

All the in-between that somehow, some _when_ made them end up here.

There are mornings and evenings and noons even, when the man Damian has long since come to love and admire is with him in both spirit and mind. There is no **batman** , no **joker** , no **_Mission_** in their home; no rights and no wrongs. Only—

“You should have woken me, Beloved. I would have helped with breakfast.”

“You needed rest more than me.”

Warm hand sneaks around his waist and warmer lips press lightly to his collarbone. _Hello, I missed you. Are you well?_

Damian pulls the other man into his arms; allows himself to drown in the familiar scent and heat, the solid feel of this precious body pressed flush against his own. And he breathes. _Hello, I'm here. I am_ ** _here_**.

_—love_

without judgment. Without barriers.

~~It’s more than any of them could’ve _ever_ asked for. ~~

**Author's Note:**

> [ ~~i'm on tumblr!~~ ](https://takenene.tumblr.com)


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